


(Ex) Lover

by kruser13



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Haylor - Fandom, One Direction (Band), Taylor Swift (Musician)
Genre: Alcohol, F/M, Flashbacks, Haylor, Love Story, One Shot, Sexual Content, Song: Lover (Taylor Swift), Song: Two Ghosts (Harry Styles), dancing around the kitchen in the refrigerator light, mood, sexy but really sweet type sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 18:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20605340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kruser13/pseuds/kruser13
Summary: Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he counted to 6 before releasing it slowly, the air hissing through his teeth.  No amount of morning meditations would ever make him feel prepared to see her again.  It had been years and years, and they’d both seen their fair share of other people, but he knew from the first time her red lips had met his he’d be haunted by her for a long time.  And he’d been right.





	(Ex) Lover

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot brought to you by the rumored presence of Harry and Taylor at Ed Sheeran's wedding celebration party. Smut written by: [AHM1121](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHM1121/works)
> 
> A few songs that are mentioned/were inspiration to this are:
> 
> Lover - Taylor Swift (of course)  
Two Ghosts - Harry Styles  
Case of You - Joni Mitchell  
All Too Well - Taylor Swift  
Getaway Car - Taylor Swift  
Sign of the Times - Harry Styles  
Adorn - Miguel  
Dead Sea - Lumineers  
Still the One - Shania Twain  
Light On - Maggie Rogers  
Cruel Summer - Taylor Swift  
Cornelia Street - Taylor Swift (can you tell I'm basically only listening to the new album)

Harry pulled at the bottom of his blazer sleeves, a nervous habit of his that Allesandro had once, in a drunken haze, literally begged him on his knees to stop. He mentally slapped himself on the wrist and released his thumb and fingers from their death grip on the jacquard material. Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he counted to 6 before releasing it slowly, the air hissing through his teeth. No amount of morning meditations would ever make him feel prepared to see her again. It had been years and years, and they’d both seen their fair share of other people but he knew from the first time her red lips had met his he’d be haunted by her for a long time. And he’d been right.

Though it wasn’t cold outside (well, not for London, anyway), a shiver ran through him, despite the sheen of sweat forming on his forehead.  _ Get yourself together, you fucking idiot _ , he thought to himself. He had to remind himself that the last time they’d seen each other publicly, she was less than pleased to see him, and he… well let’s just say tumblr had a field day unpacking the way he had refused to make eye contact with her and her new beau. He’d grown, and she’d grown, and he was sure she’d be perfectly mature and polite--it was himself he was worried about. 

He’d let himself open up more than he had wanted to in his last interview with Rob--it was almost impossible not to open up more than you wanted to when spending time with him. Rob made it easy. He was a super fan, and the feeling was absolutely mutual. So once they were alone, driving up the coast, away from godforsaken Los fucking Angeles (some severe irony in the name), he found himself spilling his thoughts on his flaws and his writing process and his heartache. Harry was glad that Rob hadn’t printed some of the names he mentioned, though he did leave in Harry’s raw feelings about his pettiness and jealousy, a paragraph that made him blush, cringe, and get immediately transported back to that night in 2015 when he displayed that jealousy for the world to see.

Harry was now better, stronger, and a hell of a lot more private than he was then. He’d found a way to balance his exciting adventures with his propensity to be a hermit. More often than not he found himself tucked away in a cafe or a coffee shop drinking unending cups of green tea and reading books that young him would have scoffed at. He’d blossomed as a songwriter, baring his soul and his ideologies in ways that had gotten him no small amount of critical praise, leading him to meet many of his idols. He was, to put it lightly, a fucking catch. If he was honest with himself, he hadn’t chosen this particular Gucci suit without pausing to consider if she’d like him in it. He thought about what she’d think of the slick satin and embroidery if she brushed her hands across his back when she greeted him with a hug, or, even better, if they danced together, for old times’ sake. Harry stopped the daydream abruptly, shaking his head as wisps of the imagery curled and dissipated into the corners of his brain where they belonged.

He checked his watch and saw that it was finally 15 minutes until the party was set to begin. Harry was criminally early to every event and often had to force himself to wait to walk in so he could appear to be more normal. He pulled down the visor mirror and took a good look at himself, running his fingers through his freshly cut hair, hoping that he hadn’t taken it too short this time. He fluffed it up a little and ruffled it the way she used to like it and rolled his eyes at himself, chuckling at how ridiculous he was being. He checked his teeth, practicing his biggest smile, and took another deep breath as he got out of his vehicle. He walked over to the nearby staff member to give them his keys, then began to head up the dirt path to the tent.

He hadn’t made it 10 steps before a hand clapped down on his shoulder and he felt himself being spun around and pulled into Niall’s embrace.

“HAROLD!! I was hoping you’d come!!”

Harry held Niall tight, feeling himself get a little emotional about this unexpected reunion with his good friend. He ended the embrace, but still held Niall by his shoulders, beaming.

“You know, Ni, it’s only been a few months since the Eagles, but I have to admit it, it’s been too long.”

Niall laughed and playfully punched Harry on the shoulder.

“Well, maybe if you’d stop running off to Japan every chance you got….”

“Hey, man, you can’t question a man’s creative process!”

“True, true, who am I to question a man who accidentally bites off pieces of his tongue for his art?”

“Shut the fuck up, Niall!!”

Niall pretended to be hurt by Harry’s harsh language, pulling his mouth into tight frown, but the way his eyes twinkled gave him away. The two burst into laughter, and entered the party arm in arm.

As his eyes adjusted to the dark, Harry’s breath caught in his throat with a pang of anxiety. So many people milled around the various attractions, and smoke billowed through the tent, illuminated with laser beams and flashing lights. He squeezed Niall’s arm, and Niall looked over at him, understanding evident in his eyes.

“I got you, H. We’re going to stick together!”

Harry smiled at his friend, exuding gratitude and relief.

“Wanna grab a drink and make a lap?”

“Sure, let’s Guin-ess a coupl’a beers”

Niall laughed heartily at his own joke and Harry rolled his eyes, feeling himself relax. This might just be a fun party after all.

\-------

Three laps, two beers (a piece), one turkey leg (Harry), one cotton candy (Niall), and five new goat friends later (the petting zoo was adorable!), Harry had still not spotted her, and it was time for the speeches to begin. He carefully scanned the crowd, now that the area they were crowded into was well lit and the fog machines had been turned off. On his fifth scan of the group, he found her. Cherry’s best friend was on stage, sharing a beautiful and emotional memory she had of witnessing Ed and Cherry’s love story, and Taylor watched with tears in her eyes. 

Harry’s heart raced and a lump formed in his throat. He’d seen pictures of her here and there on the internet (it was practically inescapable) but nothing could compare to the way she looked in person. She was an oasis in a desert, shimmering, promising to erase everything that had depleted you before you found her. The air around her moved differently, as if sentient, understanding an angel was in its midst. The breath left Harry’s body as she wiped a tear and turned, her gaze meeting his. Recognition washed over her face, and she grinned, shyly lifting a hand in a wave. Harry plastered a huge, toothy smile on his face, hoping his dimple (which she loved) showed, and robotically returned the wave. She smiled again, then returned her attention to the stage. Harry sighed heavily, his hands trembling. He needed a fucking drink. He motioned to Niall, questioning, with his thumb and pinky out. Niall pointed at his very full beer (the asshole had grabbed one without him) and shook his head no. Harry glanced at her once more, then turned and made his way to the bar.

“What’ll it be, honey?”

Harry took in the appearance of the bartender standing in front of him. Her costume was a fever dream combination of a ringmaster and their lion--her eyes were exaggeratedly lined at the corners, and she even had cat-eye contacts and whiskers somehow affixed to her face. She wore a top hat and had on a brass buttoned coat with a bodysuit that included a tail, and her holographic platform boots looked like they could have been pulled from David Bowie’s closet. Harry smirked, marveling at how over the top Ed had gone with this celebration--he must really be crazy about Cherry.

“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks, please.”

“You have a preference?”

“Surprise me.” Harry said, with a wink. He heard cheering in the crowd and noticed that a section of the group near the front was parting to allow someone new to head to the stage. He mentally scolded himself for not paying attention to the end of the speech--he was a hopeless romantic and adored hearing anyone talk about love. The applause heightened and he saw that Taylor was making her way to the spotlight, pausing to hug a few friends and high five others. He noticed that she aggressively avoided doing either to that record executive person he’d been reading so much about lately. He knew he was probably one of the only people who noticed, though--she was so kind and polite, but he could read her like a book. He reminded himself, though, that this book no longer lived on his shelf, and his heart sank all over again. The bartender slid his glass across the bar to him, and it landed in his waiting hand with a clink as it collided with his rings. He looked down at his hands, nails painted, a ring on basically each finger, and thought of a time when his hands looked much different, intertwined with hers in London so many years ago.

\-------

** _December 13, 2012_ **

She was laying on his chest, snuggled in close, and tracing the ink on his arms slowly and deliberately.

“It’s not a big deal, Harry, it’s just another day! Being in London with you is present enough.”

“Don’t be silly, babe. I want it to be special--which is why you have to let me up! I have to go run a few errands.”

She grabbed the hand back from him that he’d started to pull away, carefully threading their fingers together. He couldn’t help but marvel at her skin against his, ivory threaded with gold, pure and blank like a fresh snowfall, juxtaposed with his skin, covered with marked memories and jokes and heartaches and triumphs. Hers were written in song and his were written in ink. He liked that she liked that about him--he’d been scared she would be judgy about his past and his appearance, but she had welcomed him into her arms, creating a safe haven for him in turbulent times. He looked down at the freckles on her shoulder that he loved so much and studied her eyelashes, fluttering under his warm breath.  _ She’s a goddamned dream _ , he thought. One he never wanted to wake up from. He tickled her just behind her right ear--her most sensitive spot--and she giggled, pushing against his chest for him to stop. Harry laughed with her and used the opportunity to wriggle out from underneath her. She whined as he stood up and put on a plain black t-shirt.

Taylor pulled up the blankets to her chin, burrowing further into the bed.

“Babes, it’s cold out there! Make sure and layer.”

Her sleepy eyes were closing against her will as she curled up on Harry’s pillow. He gazed down at her, his heart almost bursting from his chest. He opened the second dresser drawer and grabbed a flannel button-up to wear over his shirt, then pulled on jeans and boots. He then leaned down over her, brushing her bangs aside to kiss her forehead, inhaling deeply. Harry loved that she smelled like home to him--brown sugar baking mixed with flowers cut fresh from the garden and an inexplicable scent of comfort, something he could never quite put his finger on. No perfume or cologne in the world could match up. He knew she was smiling, even though his eyes were closed.

“You are such a weirdo! Now let the birthday princess sleep please!”

He chuckled quietly and stepped as softly as he could as he exited the room. He pulled out his phone to text his sister.

> **Harry: Gem! Do you have all the stuff ready for the party at mum’s???! Please say yes**
> 
> **Gemma: Calm down lover boy. Of course i do, do you not remember who you’re talking to?**
> 
> **Harry: and you got the special cheese from the specialty store for the cheese plate? Not just regular stuff right?**
> 
> **Gemma: You are truly ridiculous. Everything is going to be great. We’ll see you in a few hours.**
> 
> **Harry: okay okay see you soon. Thank you for everything btw .x**
> 
> **Gemma: no problem. Love you and love to see you happy!**

Harry stopped biting his bottom lip long enough to smile at that. Gemma had always been such a rock to him, supporting him in the good times, holding him in the bad times, and doing her best to keep him from being an asshole. God knows he still found a way to do it, but being with Taylor made him want to be different. Made him want to be better, somehow. She loved him, flaws and all, and never asked him to be anything he wasn’t--she didn’t know that that alone is what made him want to be better. He no longer wanted to be unaffected and have one foot out the door in a relationship. What had started out as a casual spark of a fling had grown into a slow burn of love, warm enough to melt some of the coldest, most terrified parts of his heart. He smiled to himself once more, stepped out the front door, and headed out into the blustery, cold London winter to the bakery a few blocks away.

\-------

When Harry arrived back at the house, he heard her singing quietly to “Adorn” by Miguel in the bedroom. He set the cupcakes (23 cupcakes, to be exact) on the counter in the kitchen, then hung his coat on the rack by the door and left his boots on the mat. He made his way to their room to see that Taylor had just gotten out of the shower. Her hair fell in wet ringlets down the back and shoulders of her oversized plush bathrobe. She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, doodling in her diary and drumming with her left hand on her favorite fox slippers. She heard him as he entered and looked up at him with a huge smile on her face. She shut her diary and tossed it across the bed, then jumped up to throw her arms around him.

“You’re back!!!” she laughed as he spun her in a circle 

Harry held her as tightly as he possibly could, feeling his shirt dampen from her hair, he found that he didn’t care one bit. She hummed into the embrace, face already nuzzling up into his neck, she pressed her lips to his pulse.

“I am.” He grinned, his hands moving to playfully tug at the tie of the robe, his mind already being pulled gently closer into everything that she was. “Did you miss me then, love?” He asked, enjoying the way she grinned into his neck. 

“Maybe.” Leaning forward she pressed her lips to his dimple, causing him to smile even wider. Her fingers tangled into the curls at the base of his neck, gently threading into the silken strands before playfully tugging on them. “That all depends on how much you missed me.”

“More than Orpheus missed Eurydice my dear.” He said softly, even as the tie fell away, revealing his Rolling Stones’ t-shirt that had seen better days, and a pair of his boxer shorts with the hem rolled up. Their breath tangled as his nose brushed along hers, keeping his lips just centimeters away he murmured, “now kiss me, ‘cause I’m a fool to have ever left.” 

The kiss was warm with familiarity, lips that had touched a hundred times, made promises of a million more. Even as he pushed the robe off her shoulders leaving it in a pool on the floor, she was tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“I see that you’ve missed me too.” He laughed softly, only releasing her to pull his shirt up and over his head, and then his hands were moving back to her hips, working their way under the shirt to smooth over the gentle slope of her hips. A million miles of the finest cashmere could never compare to that smooth pale skin hiding underneath . 

“Always.” She murmured as her lips trailed over his jaw. Bringing her closer he felt her breath hitch as his hands ghosted along her ribs, sliding further to draw playful designs down her back. “Harry.” She said his name like a prayer, every single time, and every time he fell just a little more. 

Grinning like the fool he knew he was, he eased his shirt up and over her head, revealing a frame so delicate to carry someone so strong. His lips traced over her shoulder, planting kisses along every sun kissed freckle that waited there, even as he felt her hands work open his belt and then his jeans.

_ Why was it so easy to simply slip into the light, the warmth, the steadfast need?  _ he briefly thought, as he lowered them both onto the bed. She giggled, a sound that was music all on its own, as she kicked her fox slippers back on to the floor. “They’re far too young to be seeing this.” she commented, letting her fingertips drag down his lower back, before pushing at his boxers and jeans. 

He laughed, finishing the job, and tossing them to the side of the bed, he pulled the large downy blanket over their bodies. As he laid his body over hers, the laughter died away to a small smile that had her blushing, long lashes fanned over her cheeks as he stared for too long.

“What?” she asked playfully.

He lifted his hand to brush his fingers over her cheek. “You’re beautiful.” Keeping his hand on her face, his thumb gently brushed over her cheek and he lowered his lips to hers, letting them both fall farther into one another.

Her fingers moved over his body as his lips moved down hers. She explored the planes of his back, muscles bunched and coiled before releasing as he pushed her closer to the wet heat of pleasure. His hands and mouth never seemed to stop, avidly exploring and drawing out whispered sighs of his name that he would one day play over and over again in his head. When they finally joined together, he watched the look of wonder on her face as her eyes closed, and her head fell back. Letting his lips find their home along her neck, they both climbed together, urging each other closer to the edge. All of the heat carried between them released in shuddered breaths as they held each other close. 

With their limbs tangled together, the staccatoed rhythm of their hearts settled between them. He ran his fingers through her hair, pausing occasionally to undo snares in her curls. He quietly hummed “A Case of You” against the top of her head, and snuggled his body as closely as he could to hers. A dark cloud settled over him as he remembered he had to fly out in a couple of days to rejoin the band.

“Fuck. I wish we could always be this close. I love you, you know that, right?”

She looked up at him, regarding him carefully with those piercing blue eyes, making his chest catch fire.

“I love you, too. H. Really, really. This is the absolute best birthday I’ve ever had. Ever.”

Harry laughed at her serious tone for words that should be so happy. Even still, his heart turned to complete mush at her words.

“Love, it’s only 10 am! I still have so much planned for you, and you haven’t even seen what I brought home for you yet. I haven’t even given you your present, babe! And I fully plan on taking you out proper tonight.”

“You can take me out tonight, as long as you take me home. Please just... always take me home, forever. And… Thank you for… just...everything. Thank you.”

_ Thank you for changing me. Thank you for being a light in a darkness I wasn’t sure could ever be penetrated. _ _ Thank you for showing me that I am worthy of love from myself. Thank you, forever. _ These are all the thoughts that ran through Harry’s head in that moment. Instead he said nothing but, “Welcome, love.” as he drifted off to slumber.

\-------

**Present day**

Harry is startled back to the present by the sound of a guitar’s twangy strum pumping through the speakers. He turns his attention to the stage to see Taylor, in all her floaty, princessy pink and tulle and glitter glory, glowing under the stage lights.

“Hi everyone, I’m Taylor!”

She pauses as the party-goers all laugh at her signature intro. She joins in, then leans into the mic, obviously flustered.

“I’m sure some of you guys knew that, sorry, it’s just what I usually do. Sorry! I’m so nervous. I don’t usually get this nervous. But today is a big deal you guys! My best friend is celebrating his forever and ever love, and we all get to join in the celebration! Cherry, the first time Ed told me about you, I swear I could see the butterflies in his stomach. He was so over the moon that you agreed to come to my party, and I couldn’t wait to meet you. When I saw you look at him the way you did, and the way he looked at you, I knew it was all over for Teddy here!”

She pauses to wink and point at Ed, who holds up his champagne in a toast in her direction with one arm, keeping the other arm wrapped tightly around his bride.

“In all seriousness, you two are a love story for the ages. You have brought so much joy to each other and to everyone you let into your circle. We are all better for having witnessed it, and I think we can agree that we can’t wait to see all the beautiful and amazing things you two will do as a couple.”

Harry alternated from watching Taylor closely, feeling the utter joy and happiness she was spilling onto the crowd, and staring, heartsick, into his whiskey glass. Out of all the outcomes he imagined when he first got the invitation to this party, this was one that never entered his mind. He never considered, even for a moment, that Taylor’s velvety voice would resonate and reverberate in his chest the way it used to when she talked slow and quiet right before they fell asleep. He had no idea that her smile would shatter all the fragile walls he had spent the past few months building around his heart. He never, ever, ever, for one moment thought that the embers he let die in the cold of winter 6 years ago could come back to life in an instant. Taylor continued on, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Look what y’all made me do!”

The crowd laughed again.

“Anyway, Ed, Cherry, I wanted to play a song for you today about big love. Love that goes on and on and on. Love that forever changes you. Love that becomes your home and your refuge--your safe haven…”

Harry couldn’t help but think she was reading from the diary of his mind, the path down memory lane he couldn’t seem to find a way off of.

“Everyone, grab someone you love and hold them tight. This one’s for you, Ed and Cherry, and it’s also for every LOVER in the house.”

The party-goers cheered in excitement. Harry knew Taylor’s new album was called Lover (how could he not?), and he thought he’d seen something on Niall’s Instagram story about this song, but he hadn’t heard it yet. He spun around on the barstool and leaned back against the bar, steadying the hand holding his whiskey by placing his glass on his knee. 

The drummer quietly tapped his sticks together to count off the band, then he and the bass player dropped into a lush, dreamy 70’s intro. Harry was impressed--this already sounded like nothing she’d ever done before. Taylor beamed at the happy couple dancing as she began to strum her guitar. She took a deep breath, blinking back tears again, and began to sing, her voice melting Harry’s heart.

> _ “We can leave the Christmas lights up till January _
> 
> _ This is our place, we make the rules…” _

The corner of Harry’s mouth lifted into a smirk. He remembered how intense his ex girlfriend had been on December 26th their first (and only) Christmas together. He’d woken up at 8:30 a.m., ready to go for a run on the treadmill downstairs and found her in the living room, lights and tinsel tangled around her arms and hair. She had huffed when he questioned what she was doing and said, “Well, it’s not Christmas anymore, is it?” Harry had begrudgingly helped, though he’d begged her to let them keep them up a while longer. “They’re so pretty and romantic, don’t you think, love?” he’d asked her. She’d winked at him, then, and said, “We’re pretty romantic already, Christmas tree or not.” He had grinned and yanked her under the mistletoe that she’d thankfully missed taking down and held her close, kissing her like they’d have a million more Christmases.

A single tear fell down his cheek, unbidden. He stood up and set his glass on the bartop, intending to leave, just as Taylor hit the chorus, and he felt like he’d been hit in the chest. She was looking directly at him, and this time the tears shining in her eyes didn’t look like happy tears.

> _ “Can I go where you go? _
> 
> _ Can we always be this close? _
> 
> _ Forever and ever? _
> 
> _ Take me out, and take me home _
> 
> _ You’re my, my, my, my, my lover” _

If Harry had been holding his whiskey glass, it would have shattered on the floor. He couldn’t possibly have misunderstood--those words were words he would never forget uttering and hearing. His head was swimming, partially due to the alcohol, but partially due to something making him much drunker than the drinks at the bar. A spark of hope bloomed in his chest and set all his secret hopes from earlier this evening aflame.

> _ “...and you’ll save all your dirtiest jokes for me _
> 
> _ And at every table, I’ll save you a seat...lover” _

He’d never forget the time that he had told Taylor one of his favorite very inappropriate jokes early on in their relationship. He had worried that he’d made her angry--she’d scrunched up her nose like she’d smelled something awful and his stomach had dropped. She then threw her head back laughing and slapped him on the arm. “You’re so ridiculous, Harry” she’d said. “It’s true, but you love it,” he’d replied, pulling her into him. “I’ll save all my dirtiest jokes for you, darlin’” he’d whispered into her hair.

Harry’s feet were frozen to the floor where he stood, immobile. He was caught in a loop of hope and heartbreak. Had she written this song because she still cared? Or because she didn’t? As a songwriter, he knew, more than anyone, that sometimes you walked old paths and haunted old heartaches to find inspiration. Was this just a ghost of love they once felt?

Taylor finished her song to applause, which she directed to Ed and Cherry while blowing kisses to the happy couple. Harry quickly turned around to face the lioness/ringmaster bartender.

“Another round, sir?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll actually take two old fashioned’s please.”

“Coming right up.”

Harry forced himself to do his breathing exercises, yet again. He drummed his rings on the metal countertop, focusing in on the differentiation of sound between each of his rings as it hit the table. He was startled when he felt someone brush his left shoulder and he turned to look as Taylor leaned against the bar next to him. 

She smiled slyly at him, and he knew she had no doubt about the effect she’d just had on him.

“Is this seat saved for anyone?”

His mouth suddenly dry, Harry licked his lips and attempted to speak.

“Erm, uh…”

The bartender, thankfully, interrupted his awkward rambling.

“Here ya go, two old fashioned’s.”

Taylor gazed at him quizzically.

“How did you…?”

Harry snorted out a laugh.

“You think I don’t keep up with ya? Glad that one wasn’t about me, by the way…”

She raised an eyebrow at him with mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“How do you know it isn’t?”

Harry clutched his chest as if she’d hit him (though if he was honest with himself, she might as well have a few minutes previous).

“Ouch! Was I just a criminal driver to you?”

She mocked him in a pretty awful attempt at a British accent, “Was uh jus a criminuhl drivah ta ya?”

He burst out laughing and she joined in.

“Harry, I know you know that isn’t the name of the song. Though I did enjoy your hit single Billboard of the Clocks”

He pretended to shove her off her barstool and she laughed, shoving him back. She let her hand linger on his sleeve, softly grazing the fabric. She looked at it closely then focused her gaze directly into his eyes. A shiver ran through Harry, and he knew she felt it.

“This… I like this. A lot.”

“Thanks, ba-... Taylor. Thank you,” he said, then looked away, and a little more quietly said, “I hoped you might.”

A current of voltage rippled through them, her hand still lightly resting on his arm. When she spoke again, her voice was deeper, almost raspy.

“So, um. You heard my song, then?”

Harry’s eyes blazed into hers, the air so thick and charged between them he could barely breathe.

“Yeah.. yeah, I did. It was fucking beautiful.”

She looked down, suddenly shy, the high points of her cheeks turning a deep scarlet. She spoke quietly, barely above a whisper.

“Um… sorry about the Christmas lights thing a million years ago...I was totally weird about that because…”   
  


“Because of your mom, I know.” Harry finished for her, softly.

She looked up at him, now, with a tenderness in her eyes that Harry was positive he was matching.

“You cut your hair,” she said, reaching up to softly run her fingers along the side of his head.

“Do you hate it?”

“I love it. But I love anything on you.”

He grinned at her devilishly, making a dirty joke, “... _ Anything _ ? Like... _ you _ , love?”

She shoved his arm, snort laughing, and threw her head back--Harry felt like he’d been transported back to that very moment she sang about. When her giggles subsided, she smiled at him and the sheer warmth of it almost brought tears to Harry’s eyes.

“Do you still rent that place not far from here?”

“No, the rental is gone, but I did buy a house not far in North London...you should see the bookshelves in one of the rooms. Finally going to have myself a proper library.”

“I’d...love to see them... Do you do night tours of your library?”

Harry gulped, and attempted to speak normally and casually, but his voice came out raw and desperate.

“We could go right now. My car’s outside.”

She nodded and looked at him with such intensity he swore he could hear the electricity crackling between them.

“Let me say my goodbyes--I’ll meet you outside in 10.”

She stood up abruptly to go and Harry reached out to grab her wrist, his thumb rubbing circles over her racing pulse point. He was terrified to ask, but he needed to know.

“You sure, love?”

Taylor reached up to gently brush a stray hair off his forehead and gave him a huge smile.

“I’m sure,  _ love _ ,” she said, again mimicking his accent poorly. Harry chuckled and released her wrist, still feeling the heat on the pads of his fingers. He watched her rush off, lighting up the faces of each person she stopped to speak to in her path. He shook his head in disbelief at his good fortune. 

He was taken back, one last time, to that birthday in London. It was late at night--they’d stayed out till the wee hours of the morning with his family and drank far too much champagne. It was freezing outside and they had bundled up to sit by the outdoor fire pit and watch the stars. Both a little tipsy on each other and the warm champagne buzz floating through them, they looked up at the sky, creating constellations and naming them whatever the hell they felt like. They’d laughed and laughed until they were dizzy and out of breath, and Harry, struck with an idea, pulled her up from the chair they’d been sitting on, making sure to keep her cocooned and warm, and led her inside. By this point, the kitchen was pitch black, and he had to fumble to find the bluetooth speaker on the counter and turned it on. A tiny pinprick of blue light illuminated the surrounding few inches of the countertop, and he pulled out his phone to put on some music. “What are you doooinnngg??”, she’d asked, giggling as she tugged at his arm. “Hold on just a second” he said as he scrolled through his songs, finally finding what he was looking for.

He pulled the refrigerator door wide open, making sure it rested on the opposite counter and stayed that way. He pushed play, and waited until he heard the music piping through the tiny speaker before he set his phone down. He smiled at Taylor and beckoned her to come close. She let her blanket fall to the floor as he wrapped her up in his arms and began to sway with her.

> _ “Like the dead sea _
> 
> _ You told me I was like the dead sea _
> 
> _ You'll never sink when you are with me _
> 
> _ Oh, lord, like the dead sea” _

She laid her head on his chest while they danced, yellow light bouncing off their bodies and casting shadows on the tile. Harry thought in that moment that he could never love her more than this. She pulled her head back, turning her face up to look at him and whispered, “Do you think we’ll always come back to each other? No matter what?” Against his will, tears had formed in his eyes. He brought his hand to her cheek and softly said, “Always. I’ll always come back to you.”

He might have taken the long road, but he had been right.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this is my first ever posted ff and I am both excited and incredibly terrified. I owe this all to my co-author--when I told her I'd be angry if someone hadn't written a fic about the Haylor reunion, she told me to do it, and I did. So here we are!


End file.
